
if 

















Class _ £ZJ__ 

Book « C . Z 1-H. 

Gopyiight N° L_L_ 

CQEXRIGKT DEPOSIT. 


















The owl’s eyes shone through the darkness with a 
strange light. (Page 52) 


LITTLE INDIAN 


DAVID CORY 


Little Indian Series 

Volume One 


Illustrated by 

LEE HAYNES 


THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
AKRON, OHIO 


MAJDE LN’ U A. 


Copyright, 1922 
by 

The Saalfield Publishing Co. 



SEP 18 1322 


©CLA6S3448 

^ . /• 


To 

D. M. C. 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

The owl’s eyes shone through the dark- 


ness with a strange light Frontispiece 

A large hawk and an owl were engaged 
in a fierce struggle 38 

He could shoot his bow like a grown-up 

man 66 


The red-winged goose flew by like a flam- 
ing torch, followed by her brood of 
snow-white goslings 102 



FOREWORD 


THE INDIAN BOY 

By 

DR. JOSEPH KOSSUTH DIXON 

Leader of the Rodman Wanamaker Historical Expeditions to the 
North American Indian 

There is a secure immortality and a depth of intui- 
tion in the utterance of Wordsworth, the peer of na- 
ture's poets, when from his pastoral reed he strikes 
the notes: 

“The child is father of the man. ,, 

Nothing could be more insistently and persistently 
true of the Indian child — the girl to be the mother 
of warriors, the boy to become a hero and the father 
of future “braves." 

It goes back, all of it, to a heredity born of three 
vital and vitalizing forces. The Indian holds with 
steadfastness and devotion to his many and weird 
ceremonies, but these all lead him back to the su- 
preme, piloting force of his life, his unfailing faith 
in the Great Mystery. 

The altar stairs to the spirit world are hills, but- 
tressed by granite; trees that talk with the winds — 
whispers from the spirit world; the thunder of the 
waterfall — the voice of the Great Mystery; stars — the 
footprints of warriors treading the highways of the 
Happy Hunting Ground. In all of these he sees God. 

Falling into communion with this happy philosophy 
of life, the glory of Indian motherhood crosses our 


path — and there are few things more beautiful. When 
the day of expectation dawns upon her, she seeks the 
solitude of all the majesty in which from childhood 
she has seen the footprints of God — revels, communes, 
rehearses to herself the heroism of the greatest hero 
of her tribe, and all that the impress of it may be 
felt upon the master man, the miracle of whose life 
has been entrusted to her to work out. 

For the first two full years of his life, a spiritual 
hand guides his steps. There, in struggle and patience 
and self-denial, he must learn all of nature's glad 
story. 

His grandparents then take him into their school. 
He learns to ride before he can walk; he is taught 
the use of the bow and arrow, which means hitting 
the mark, keenness of vision, a steady aim, precision, 
so that when the crisis comes he is ready — an ample 
reason for the brave, effective and self-reliant con- 
duct of the Indian soldier on the fields of France in 
the World War. 

Deep breathing in the open air, giving full lung 
power; self-denial, giving strength of limb and endur- 
ance in the race; fellowship with all of nature's win- 
some and wild moods; a discerning will power; a 
steadfast reliance upon the guiding hand of the Great 
Spirit, empower the Indian boy to stand on all the 
high hills of history and challenge any militant force 
that may confront him. 

The sphere is complete; Boy: Mother: God. 



LITTLE INDIAN 


CHAPTER I 

LITTLE INDIAN AND THE SPIDER 

L ittle Indian sat by the river 

watching the fish rise to the sur- 
face to catch the flies that darted 
hither and thither over the bright 
waters. A golden haze lay upon the 
earth. “Michabo is smoking his great 
pipe,” said Little Indian to himself. 
“Ere he takes his winter sleep he fills 
his pipe and smokes, and the clouds 
that rise from his bowl fill the air with 
the haze of the Indian summer.” 

Close at hand Unktomi, the Spider, 
sat industriously spinning her web. 
Little Indian watched her for some 
time. Then he arose and laid his spear 

9 


10 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


at the foot of the tall stalk of meadow 
grass on which she sat. 

“Teach me, O Unktomi, to make a 
net so that I may catch the fish that 
live in those bright waters.” 

Unktomi stopped her spinning and, 
turning her little black eyes upon the 
Indian lad, answered; 

“ ’Tis many moons since I taught the 
great god Michabo the art of knitting 
nets with which to catch the fish that 
live in the rivers and lakes. See you 
not the smoke from his pipe that fills 
the valleys with the haze of Indian 
summer?” 

“Yes, 0 Unktomi, I see the haze, but 
I would learn the art of knitting a net ; 
for I would be a great fisher as well as 
a mighty hunter.” 

“Then go you to the marsh and bring 
me the tall grasses that grow in great 


LITTLE INDIAN 


11 


abundance, and I will show you how to 
make a net, O Little Indian.” 

And from the swampy land along the 
river bank Little Indian gathered a 
supply of coarse, thick grasses, from 
which he fashioned a net under the 
direction of the spider. And when it 
was finished he cast it into the river and 
as soon as it grew heavy with the silver 
fish he drew it up upon the bank. 

‘‘Well have you learned the art of 
weaving,” said the spider, as she spun 
her slender web and hung it from the 
tips of the tall marsh grasses. “And 
well have you caught the fish with 
which to feed your tribe, O Little 
Indian.” 

Swinging the net over his shoulder, 
he returned to the camp, and related 
how Unktomi, the Spider, had taught 
him the art of net-making. 


CHAPTER II 


HE GOES HUNTING 

A LTHOUGH Little Indian was a 
mere boy he was very skillful 
with his bow and it was seldom 
when he went hunting that he did not 
return with a partridge or a wild 
turkey. 

One warm afternoon after having 
brought down several birds he turned 
into the forest to rest a while from the 
hot sun. The trail led down a steep 
hill at the foot of which bubbled a 
sparkling spring. Making a cup out of 
his two hands, he soon quenched his 
thirst, and then from a little bag which 
was fastened to his belt he took cake 
made of Indian com and a piece of 
dried venison. It tasted mighty good, 
12 


LITTLE INDIAN 


13 


for Little Indian was very hungry as 
a healthy Indian boy should be. 

Tate Wiyohpeyata, the West Wind, 
was singing softly through the tree 
tops, and presently Little Indian fell 
asleep. Suddenly he was awakened by 
a great noise overhead. A large hawk 
and an owl were engaged in a fierce 
struggle. The poor owl was getting 
much the worst of it, and Little Indian 
felt very sorry for him. It soon would 
have been all over for the brave little 
owl had not Little Indian quickly fitted 
an arrow to his bow. Taking careful 
aim he sent the arrow straight through 
the head of the cruel hawk, which fell 
dead at his feet. As he stooped to pick 
it up, the wounded owl fluttered to the 
ground. 

“You have saved my life, O Little 
Indian,” cried Hinakaja, for that was 
the owl’s name. “One of my wings is 


14 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


broken. Had you not come to my res- 
cue I would have been killed. ’ ’ 

Little Indian was pleased, but so 
surprised. He knew that the birds 
talk to one another, and that the wind 
carries the messages of the Great Spirit 
to the Forest Folk, but this was the first 
time that one of them had spoken to 
him. 

“It makes my heart glad, O Little 
Hinakaja, to have saved you from the 
cruel Cetan,” Little Indian replied. 
Then binding up the broken wing, he 
tenderly carried Hinakaja to the camp, 
knowing that if he left the wounded 
bird to care for himself he probably 
would be killed before morning by some 
enemy in the forest. 

It took some time for the wounded 
wing to heal, but when at last it was 
strong enough to take the long flight 
back to the forest, Hinakaja said good- 


LITTLE INDIAN 


15 


by and flew away. Not however before 
he had told Little Indian that if at any 
time he needed help, Hinakaja would be 
the first to come to his aid. 

“Farewell, O Little Indian,” cried 
Hinakaja, and rising from the Indian 
lad’s shoulder, he flew straight away 
for his nest in the big forest. 


CHAPTER III 


LITTLE INDIAN FINDS A FRIEND 

E ARLY one morning Little Indian 
started out for the lake where 
he kept his canoe. It was well 
up on the shore, but it took him only a 
moment to set it bobbing upon the 
sparkling water. Jumping in, he 
glided away, his wet paddle glistening 
in the sun as he swept it swiftly 
through the water. 

Famahe, the Pickerel, hid behind the 
rushes as the little Indian lad beached 
his canoe on the opposite shore. But 
Little Indian did not notice him, for he 
wished to gather berries for his old 
grandmother. When the osier basket 
was filled he shoved his canoe into the 
water and paddled homeward. But as 


16 


LITTLE INDIAN 


17 


he neared the beach, to his dismay he 
saw Inmutanka, the Lynx, lying in wait 
for him. There was nothing for the lit- 
tle Indian boy to do but turn his canoe 
about, for he had left his bow and ar- 
rows on shore close to the very spot 
where the wily Inmutanka now lay in 
wait for him. 

“What troubles you, 0 Little In- 
dian?” asked a voice, and the next mo- 
ment Hinakaja settled on the bow of 
the canoe. 

“Oh, wise Hinakaja, Inmutanka will 
not let me land. My bow and arrows 
rest upon the beach. Without them I 
am altogether helpless,” answered Lit- 
tle Indian. 

“Patience, my red-skinned brother,” 
answered Hinakaja, and away he flew. 
In a short time he returned with the 
bow in his bill. Dropping it in the 
canoe, he again flew back to the shore 


18 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


for the arrows, which he brought one bv 
one to the little Indian lad. 

Then with his trusty bow once more 
in his possession, Little Indian paddled 
for the shore. Meanwhile Inmutanka 
stealthily crept along the shore, his eyes 
fixed upon the canoe. Nearer and 
nearer came Little Indian, the expect- 
ant beast crouching ready to spring 
upon him. 

Closer came the canoe until Little In- 
dian could see the gleaming eyes of the 
cruel Inmutanka. Closer still — and 
then the paddle was quietly laid aside 
and the trusty bow, fitted with the 
sharpest arrow, was raised gently 
above the edge of the canoe. Up a lit- 
tle more, until Little Indian’s eye, 
glancing along the slender shaft, saw 
the white spot just over the heart of 
the hungry animal. Whiz, pink! and 
Inmutanka rolled over and, after a 
quiver, lay perfectly still. 


LITTLE INDIAN 


19 


“I know not what I would have done, 
O wise Hinakaja, had you not brought 
me my weapon!’ ’ exclaimed Little In- 
dian joyfully. 

‘ ‘ Say no more, ’ ’ replied the owl. ‘ ‘ Did 
you not slay my enemy Cetan, the 
Hawk?” 

Then the little Indian lad lifted the 
dead lynx upon his shoulder and set out 
for his camp. 

“His pelt will make me a coat for 
winter,” said Little Indian. “But had 
it not been for you I should still be on 
the lake!” 


CHAPTER IV 


LITTLE INDIAN AND THE LYNX 

L ittle Indian often lay awake 
at night listening to the coyotes 
howling out on the prairie. 
Sometimes when the cries were close to 
the camp he would sit up and peer out 
of his wigwam. But he wasn’t afraid 
for his trusty bow lay near him and if 
the coyote came near enough, Little In- 
dian felt sure he could shoot him from 
where he lay. At any rate, Mica, the 
Coyote, is a great coward, and Little 
Indian wasn’t afraid of him. 

One night he had just fallen asleep 
when he was awakened suddenly by a 
great noise in the camp. A shrill, 
piercing neigh plainly told him that 
some wild beast was attacking the herd 
20 


LITTLE INDIAN 


21 


of ponies owned by his father. Rush- 
ing from his wigwam with his bow and 
arrow ready, he saw in the bright moon- 
light a lynx on the back of one of the 
little mustangs. The poor creature was 
doing its best to shake off the ferocious 
beast, which was tearing its back with 
its teeth and claws. 

Little Indian drew his bow and sent 
an arrow straight into the wild animal. 
With a yell of rage it loosened its hold 
and turned upon him, just missing him 
as he jumped to one side. With quick 
aim he planted another arrow just be- 
hind the shoulder blade and the furious 
animal sank to the ground mortally 
wounded. In a few minutes it was dead 
and Little Indian was delighted to see 
that its skin was beautifully marked. 
No doubt it was the mate of the lynx 
which he had recently killed on the 
shore of the lake. 


22 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


By this time the camp was astir and 
the frightened ponies were being 
herded together. The wounded mus- 
tang was first carefully attended by 
Little Indian, w r ho dressed its wounds 
with healing ointment. The little ani- 
mal gratefully rubbed his nose against 
his arm as if trying to thank him for 
having saved him from the hungry 
beast, and Little Indian whispered in 
his ear that Inmutanka, the Lynx, 
would never harm him again. 

By this time the sun was rising above 
the shadowy hilltop, and Little Indian 
knew it was useless to go back to his 
wigwam at this hour of the morning, so 
he waited for his grandmother to light 
the fire under the big black kettle and 
cook the breakfast. In a short time she 
came out of her tepee and by the time 
breakfast was ready Little Indian had 
a tremendous appetite. And so would 


LITTLE INDIAN 


23 


any boy who had been up half the night 
and fought a fierce lynx to save his 
favorite pony. 

“You are a good lad,” said his 
grandmother as Little Indian finished 
eating. “Tonight after the Great Sun 
has gone down behind the hilltop I 
will tell you a story.” 

This was good news, for his grand- 
mother knew many wonderful stories 
about the Blackfeet and the Chippe- 
ways as well as legends of other tribes, 
for she was very old and had once been 
held captive by the Algonquins, a tribe 
which had always been hostile to them. 


CHAPTER Y 


HE MAKES A CANOE 

I T took Little Indian some time to 
remove the hide of the lynx, but 
how proud he felt when at last he 
held up the beautiful pelt, for it cer- 
tainly is no easy thing to kill so fero- 
cious an animal. 

Then taking his bow and quiver of 
arrows, the little Indian lad set out for 
the lake, near which in the silent forest 
Hinakaja, the Owl, had his nest. 

When Little Indian reached the edge 
of the beautiful sheet of water he found 
Tondontanka, the Bullfrog, sitting on a 
lily-pad, Tatawamduska, the Dragonfly, 
skimming over the water, and Hoka, 
the Heron, wading in the shallow 
places. 


24 


LITTLE INDIAN 


25 


They had heard from Hinakaja how 
Little Indian had saved his pony from 
Inmutanka, the Lynx. 

“How fares our red-skinned broth- 
er?” asked Tondontanka. “Know you 
that Unktahe, the Water God, has 
taken your canoe?” 

When Little Indian heard this he was 
dismayed. For what reason had the 
Water God taken away his canoe? 

“Build another, 0 Little Indian,” 
cried Wajioji, the Wood Thrush. 

“I will do as you say,” answered the 
little Indian lad, “but I must return 
first to my camp for tools before setting 
out to find a suitable tree.” 

When he reached his wigwam he 
gathered together a number of fish 
hooks which he had made from pieces 
of bone, carving them out with a beav- 
er’s tooth set in a stick. 

His wooden sword, which he had 


26 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


fashioned into shape and given a sharp 
edge by scraping with stones and shells, 
he took next; and last of all he stuck a 
deer’s horn into a stick for a sort of 
pickaxe. Then with his bow and 
quiver of arrows slung across his back, 
he set out for the silent forest to find a 
suitable tree from which to make his 
canoe. At last he found one close to a 
stream which emptied into the lake. 

He then set to work to make a fire 
around the base of the tree, and kept 
it burning all through the night. To- 
ward morning, Tate Wiyohiyanpa, the 
East Wind, who brings the dawn to the 
earth and chases away the darkness 
with his silver arrows, whispered in 
Little Indian’s ear. 

“Arise, 0 Little Indian; the great 
tree is about to fall!” 

Yes, it was the voice of the East 
Wind, and Little Indian, looking up at 


LITTLE INDIAN 


27 


the great tree, saw that invisible hands 
were slowly pushing it to one side. 
High up the branches rustled as Tate 
Wiyohiyanpa pressed irresistibly 
against them until, with a thundering 
crash, it lay upon the ground. 

Then building another fire, Little In- 
dian burned off a log of suitable length, 
and collecting a quantity of gum from 
the pine trees, made little fires on top 
of the log. When the wood was charred 
for an inch or more in depth, he scraped 
away the charcoal and rebuilt the fires. 
At last the log was hollowed out and 
after making a paddle Little Indian 
was ready to launch his canoe. 


CHAPTER VI 


LITTLE INDIAN IN DANGEE 

A GAIN Tate Wiyohiyanpa, the 
East Wind called to Little In- 
dian. The Wind God’s cheeks 
were crimson with the sunrise and his 
voice rang through the Great Forest, 
waking the deer and the birds. 

The Indian boy sprang lightly from 
his bed of dry leaves and after a dip 
in the stream prepared his breakfast. 
Then, gathering up his weapons and 
stores, he placed them in the canoe and 
pushed it down the soft bank into the 
river. It floated on an even keel and he 
was filled with joy to think that he him- 
self had made it. 

Suddenly he noticed a footprint in the 
28 


LITTLE INDIAN 


29 


soft earth. It was too large to have 
been made by his own foot, and for a 
moment he was undecided what to do. 
Drawing the canoe up on the shore, he 
climbed a high pine tree, from the top 
of which he saw a number of Indians 
on the other side of the river, just be- 
yond a narrow stretch of trees border- 
ing an open level space. 

Sliding down to the ground, he hur- 
ried back to his canoe, and pushing off 
from the shore, seized his paddle and 
rowed quickly down the stream. All 
went well for some time, and Little In- 
dian was about to thank the Great 
Spirit for having escaped unnoticed 
when a shrill war-whoop caused him to 
look over his shoulder. For a moment 
his heart sank as he saw the Indians 
launch their canoes. But calling on 
Wakantanka, the Great Spirit, to help 
him, he bent to his paddle, sending his 


30 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


canoe shooting through the water. 

In the distance was an island around 
which the river ran in two streams, and 
Little Indian knew that if he could 
reach the island before his pursuers 
turned the bend in the river, they 
would be unable to tell which side he 
had taken. Redoubling his efforts, he 
reached the island just in time. Look- 
ing back between the rushes that grew 
close to the water’s edge, he saw the 
hostile canoe just rounding the bend. 
On it came towards the island. What if 
it should take the stream to the right? 
Little Indian shuddered, for he cer- 
tainly would be discovered. It was 
only a chance that they would take the 
course to the left. For a few minutes 
he waited anxiously. Then his heart 
almost stopped beating. They had 
turned the canoe and were coming his 
way. There was no use to paddle fur- 


LITTLE INDIAN 


31 


ther, for they would only overtake him. 
Little Indian picked up his bow. He 
meant to die like a warrior at any rate. 

Suddenly he heard a voice and look- 
ing up beheld the Great Beaver, white 
with the snows of many winters. “In- 
dian, enter my lodge.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation Little 
Indian silently followed the Great 
Beaver into his dwelling. 


CHAPTER Yn 


GREAT BEAVER IS HIS HOST 

L ITTLE INDIAN had often heard 
of the Great Beaver, and how 
he had taught Akaiyan, the 
founder of the Beaver medicine, the 
secret of the healing art, the use of to- 
bacco and the dances, songs, and pray- 
ers belonging to the great mystery of 
medicine. So Little Indian was not 
surprised, but only thankful. 

Silently he followed the Great 
Beaver, whose hair was as white as the 
driven snow. He could hear the cries 
of the hostile Indians as they dis- 
covered his canoe but could find no 
trace of him. Little Indian knew he 
was safe, however, for the Great 
Beaver was a powerful animal and 


LITTLE INDIAN 


33 


held in great reverence by the Indians. 

The wife and family of the Great 
Beaver received Little Indian very 
cordially and asked him to spend the 
night with them. 

Presently a little beaver returned 
and said that the Indians had gone, tak- 
ing with them Little Indian’s canoe. 
At this Little Indian looked very sor- 
rowful, but great was his delight when 
Great Beaver said that he would gladly 
give him a canoe. 

The next morning Little Indian de- 
parted, after thanking his kind pro- 
tector for his hospitality. The canoe 
was made from birch bark and beauti- 
fully decorated. Indeed, it seemed a 
lucky thing, after all, that he had met 
the Great Beaver. But more impor- 
tant than all, however, the real mean- 
ing of which Little Indian did not 
guess, was that because he had been 


34 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


kind to the little owl, every animal in 
the Great Forest was a friend in need 
as well as in name. 

In the canoe was a splendid bow, a 
quiver full of arrows and a war-club of 
which any chief might be proud. 

“Farewell, Little Indian!” cried the 
Great Beaver. “Be brave and all will 
go well!” 

Little Indian waved his glistening 
paddle and then floated down the 
stream to the lake near his father’s 
tribe. Late in the afternoon he decided 
to beach his canoe and camp for the 
night. He had eaten nothing since 
leaving the Great Beaver’s lodge and 
was hungry as well as weary with his 
long journey. Once on land he quickly 
set about making a fire. Everywhere 
wild berries grew in abundance, but to 
a hungry Indian boy they seemed but 
poor sort of food. 


LITTLE INDIAN 


35 


“Meat I must have,” he muttered to 
himself, and striking off into the forest 
he presently shot a rabbit. In a short 
time it was broiling over the glowing 
coals and Little Indian had a good 
dinner before he lay down in his blan- 
ket beside the fire. 


CHAPTER Yin 


LITTLE INDIAN RECEIVES MANY GIFTS 

A LL the next day Little Indian 
paddled his canoe and toward 
night entered the lake on the 
other shore of which lay his father’s 
camp. It was growing rapidly dark, 
and as the little Indian boy was weary 
with the day’s paddling he concluded 
to build a fire and camp for the night. 
When he awoke he was indeed sur- 
prised, for he was no longer by his own 
campfire on the shore of the lake, but 
in a strange lodge. Many people were 
present, some singing, some dancing, 
while others sat around the walls 
dressed in skins of various animals or 
birds. They were really animals but in 

36 


LITTLE INDIAN 


37 


order not to frighten the little Indian 
boy, had changed themselves into hu- 
man shapes. Then the chief stood up 
and said: 

‘‘Little Indian, we have heard many 
things concerning you, and they are 
good. These people represent the 
animals who desire to do you a kind- 
ness, for you have been brave and true. 
I am the Dog. I have much power, for 
the Great Spirit is fond of dogs. My 
spirit shall always protect you. Take 
this dance home to your people and 
they shall always be lucky in war.” 
Then turning to the other animals, he 
cried, “Brothers, see, I have given this 
little Indian lad my power; will you not 
give him yours?” 

Then the Owl arose, and Little In- 
dian recognized his friend, Hinakaja. 
“I have power to see in the dark,” he 
said. “Fasten these feathers in your 


38 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

hair and you shall have the power to 
see in the darkness.” 

After a pause Tatanka, the Buffalo 
Bull, stood up. “I give you strength 
to trample your enemies under foot; 
also I give you great endurance,” and 
he handed Little Indian a shoulder belt 
of tanned buffalo hide to wear on the 
warpath. 

Next Pahin, the Porcupine, arose 
and presented him with quills. ‘ ‘ W ear 
these and your enemies shall flee before 
you like weak women.” 

Then Huya, the Eagle, flew over and 
gave him feathers. “Great prowess 
shall be yours in war,” he cried majest- 
ically. 

Pehan, the Whooping Crane, also 
gave Little Indian a present — a bone 
from a wing which was fashioned into 
a war-whistle to frighten his enemies. 

Tamdoska, the Deer, gave him swift- 







w. •: : • '.; : 


- 

zMfimM'ii 
vmmM m& 

■ 




i WS&Sfav** 




A large hawk and an owl were engaged 

struggle. 


in a fierce 
(Page 13) 






LITTLE INDIAN 


39 


ness, with a rattle as a token, and Mato, 
the Bear, a strip of fur for his belt as 
a sign of hardiness. 

Then the little Indian boy returned 
to the lake and paddled his canoe to the 
opposite shore, where he drew it out 
and set out for his own camp. It all 
was like a dream, it seemed so long 
since he had left to build his canoe, and 
yet it was not so long, after alL But 
he had grown old in wisdom for the 
Great Spirit had been watching oyer 
him, and the Forest People had given 
him of their gifts, so that wisdom and 
strength, courage and endurance were 
now his to do with as he might choose. 


CHAPTER IX 


ALL THE CAMP REJOICES OYER LITTLE 
INDIAN 

G REAT was the rejoicing in the 
camp upon the return of Little 
Indian. His father, Big Chief, 
was proud of his boy. For had he not 
brought him up to be strong and hardy? 
When he was but three years old Big 
Chief would come to the wigwam and 
shout, “Lazy bones, where are you hid- 
ing?” drag him out of his blanket and 
carry him off for a plunge bath, with 
all the men of the tribe, through a 
shivery hole in the ice. Even when he 
was but five he could shoot his ashwood 
bow and sit a horse like a grown-up 
man. He knew the different animals 
both by sound and by sight. He knew 

40 


LITTLE INDIAN 


41 


the long and dismal howl of the wolves 
in the silent night and the yelp of the 
little coyotes, and the buffalo’s wild 
bellow, and the splash of the beavers 
playing along by the lake shore. Now 
his son was a man, so Big Chief felt, as 
he followed Little Indian down to the 
shore and gazed long and silently at the 
beautiful canoe which the Great Beaver 
had presented to him. 

Then Little Indian returned to the 
village and all the warriors gathered 
about him to learn the Young Dog 
Dance, which the Dog had shown him 
and which was to make them skillful in 
war. And he also showed them all the 
articles which the animals had given 
him — the owl feathers for wisdom and 
the eagle feathers for prowess in war, 
the wonderful shoulder belt made of 
tanned buffalo hide, which Tatanka, the 
Buffalo Bull, had given him as a token 


42 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

for strength and endurance. He blew 
on the bone whistle which the Whoop- 
ing Crane gave him, and it made so 
loud a noise that the treetops 
trembled. He shook the rattle, the gift 
of the Deer, as a token for swiftness, 
and he let the admiring braves stroke 
the strip of fur which he wore as a 
belt, the token of hardiness from the 
Bear. 

Great indeed was the rejoicing, and 
Little Indian’s mother, Blue Water, 
folded him to her breast, for she had 
been weary watching for his home-com- 
ing. And his old grandmother patted 
his head proudly, for had she not al- 
ways known that he would grow up to 
be a great warrior, like her son, Big 
Chief? 

Then all the squaws set about build- 
ing a wigwam for Little Indian. There 
was much singing and dancing, and 


LITTLE INDIAN 


43 


finally when all the skins were sewn to- 
gether and the pole set up and fastened 
securely, Little Indian had a wigwam 
all to himself. 

Inside he hung up his bow and quiver 
of arrows, and his tokens he carefully 
put away for such times as he might 
need them. And after the evening meal 
he sat with the braves and told them 
that he had built his own canoe which 
the hostile Indians had stolen, and that 
he had received as a gift a canoe from 
the Great Beaver, white with the snows 
of many winters. When he had 
finished, Hanyetuwi, the moon, was 
high in the heavens. Silently the 
braves slipped into their wigwams and 
Little Indian fell asleep to dream of his 
friends, the animals. 


CHAPTER X 


THE COVETED PRIZE 

T HE next morning as Little In- 
dian gazed over the broad prairie, 
a wonderful sight met his eyes. 
The plain was covered with buffaloes. 
Wherever he looked he saw them graz- 
ing in small, scattered companies. He 
had for a long time been anxious to 
have a war shield. But first, accord- 
ing to the Indian law, he must make it 
himself or it will not protect him. He 
must kill with his own hands the buffalo 
bull from the skin of which the shield 
is to be made. He must himself take 
off the hide, which should be thick, af- 
ter having slain the animal with an ar- 
row only. Little Indian had plenty of 
arrows and a good bow for his father 

44 


LITTLE INDIAN 


45 


had given him one at an early age, and 
Little Indian knew well how to use it. 

As Anpetuwi, the great sun, shone 
down from the heavens and lighted up 
the vast prairie with its golden light, 
it shone particularly, so Little Indian 
thought, on one great buffalo. Little 
Indian made up his mind that from him 
he would secure the hide with which to 
make his war shield. It took him but a 
few moments to jump upon his pony 
and be off on the hunt. 

At no great distance from the near- 
est herd was a clump of bushes. It 
would be difficult to reach this point 
unnoticed by the buffaloes, but Little 
Indian knew a very good trick. Hang- 
ing low down on the opposite side of 
his pony, he quietly rode forward, the 
herd paying no attention to him, think- 
ing it was only a stray pony walking 
over the prairie. When he finally 


46 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


reached the clump of bushes, the great, 
shaggy-headed bulls and the handsome, 
sleek-coated cows with their awkward, 
long-legged calves continued to graze 
unsuspectingly on the tender grass of 
the prairie, while hovering near the 
herd, but always at a safe distance 
numerous coyotes waited for a chance 
to spring upon the helpless calves. 

The buffalo bull which Little Indian 
had picked out was a cream-colored 
yearling. This color was most highly 
prized and there were only two buffalo 
robes of this color in the tribe. He 
knew that just the pelt of this animal 
would bring him fame. There was a 
deep gully near at hand into which Lit- 
tle Indian quietly guided his pony, and 
presently, to his delight, he saw the 
cream-colored buffalo approaching over 
the ridge of the embankment. 

Then with a stinging blow on the 


LITTLE INDIAN 


47 


flank of his mustang, he gave chase. 
His appearance instantly set the herd 
in an uproar. Off they went at a tre- 
mendous pace. Urged on by Little In- 
dian’s voice, his mustang soon over- 
took the herd. A wild-eyed bull turned 
to offer him battle, but he drove an ar- 
row through its heart and raced on in 
pursuit. Another leap and his pony 
was close to the prize. Taking careful 
aim, he laid the cream-colored buffalo 
low amid the dust of the prairie. The 
coveted buffalo robe was now his and 
the hide for his war shield. Lucky Lit- 
tle Indian! 


CHAPTER XI 


LITTLE INDIAN SECURES HIS WAR SHIELD 

W HEN Little Indian proudly 
brought home the pelt of the 
cream-colored buffalo there was 
much rejoicing. Big Chief and Blue 
Water, his mother, were proud of their 
son. But his grandmother said noth- 
ing, for she knew that Little Indian was 
to be a great warrior some day, and 
therefore why make much of a deed 
such as this ? He would do this himself 
at the council fire that night, for he was 
entitled by his daring deed to recite his 
adventures at that time. 

The next day Little Indian made 
ready for the smoking of his shield. 
He must prepare the hide and from it 
make his war shield. Early in the 

48 


LITTLE INDIAN 


49 


morning he dug a hole in the ground 
and, after kindling a fire, he stretched 
above it the part of the buffalo hide 
which he intended to make into the 
shield by driving a number of pins 
through it into the ground. Then he 
spread the glue taken from the buffa- 
lo’s hoofs over the hide to give it hard- 
ness and stiffness. 

This was considered a great cere- 
mony, and all the warriors were pres- 
ent in full dress and paint, with their 
shields on their arms. They danced 
around the roasting shield, brandishing 
their war clubs. As each passed he 
held over it his tomahawk and shield, 
chanting a song and invoking the “fire 
spirit” to give it strength and hardness 
to protect the young warrior who was 
to bear it in the future. 

They chanted the story of Little In- 
dian’s visit to the lodge of the Great 


50 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Beaver; how all the animals had given 
him tokens, and how he had brought 
back the wonderful Dog Dance that 
was to make the tribe famous and in- 
vincible in war. 

If Little Indian had been just an or- 
dinary white boy, it is most likely that 
he would have grown vain with all this 
admiration, but he was not, as you well 
know. He was an Indian boy, who had 
been taught from early youth to see 
much and talk little; to admire bravery 
in others and to strive for it himself; to 
keep his body strong and agile and his 
head free from idle thoughts. 

And, moreover, this was a very seri- 
ous and important time for him; it 
was the beginning of his career 
as a young warrior, and the cere- 
mony and dances meant much to him. 
It was an invocation to the Great Spirit 
to bestow upon him the strength and 


LITTLE INDIAN 


51 


endurance that every young Indian 
coveted. It was the custom of his tribe, 
and to listen to the great warriors who 
had followed his father into many a 
battle, who had themselves brought 
home their own buffalo hides for their 
war shields, gave him only a strong de- 
sire to do greater deeds. 

As the fire burned out and the buffalo 
hide reached the proper stage of per- 
fection, it was taken off and stretched 
over its frame. This done, Little In- 
dian could go to war, but not until he 
had taken a scalp would he be consid- 
ered a warrior. 


CHAPTER Sn 


LITTLE INDIAN AND THE RED-WINGED GOOSE 

L ittle Indian was worried for 

there had been no rain in a long 
while. The green prairies were 
turning brown and the leaves of the 
trees were withered and gray. The 
streams were drying up, and the river 
bed could be seen in many places. 
There was a shortage of food, for the 
deer and other game had wandered 
away in search of new feeding places. 

One night as he lay sleeping in his 
tepee, he was awakened by a low “Too- 
woo-o-o!” Looking up he saw Hina- 
kaja, the Owl, perched upon the leather 
thong of his bow which hung in a cor- 
ner of his wigwam. The owl’s eyes 
shone through the darkness with a 

52 


LITTLE INDIAN 


53 


strange light. Brighter and brighter 
they became until the interior of the 
tepee became almost as light as day. 
Little Indian lifted himself on his el- 
bow and rubbed his eyes. Hinakaja 
nodded gravely to him, and hopping 
down to the floor, turned his eyes to- 
ward the opening in the wigwam, 
nodded again, hooted in a low tone, and 
fluttered across the floor. Then turn- 
ing as he hopped through the small 
space between the door covering and 
the wall of the wigwam, he nodded 
again and went outside. 

Little Indian picked up his bow and 
quiver of arrows, and slipping his knife 
in his belt, followed him. The moon 
was shining brightly on the gray leaves 
of the trees and the distant forest 
looked like a black cloud just dropped 
upon the earth. Being an Indian boy, 
he asked no questions, but followed his 


54 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

feathered guide, who after several short 
flights into the forest, paused at the 
foot of a dead tree and said: 

“Little Indian, if you would save 
your tribe from famine, I will tell you 
how it may be done.” 

“Tell me,” replied Little Indian, “for 
we are sore pressed for food.” 

“Listen, Little Indian,” said the owl. 
“There is a red-winged goose, followed 
by six goslings, which has roamed the 
forest these many moons. ’Tis she who 
bums up the maize and dries the laugh- 
ing waters, and puts fear into the heart 
of the wild animal. Will you under- 
take to catch the goose and remove the 
evil spell?” 

“Willingly!” cried Little Indian. 

“Then listen,” replied the owl. “But 
first of all, I will tell you that it is a 
most difficult thing.” 

Still Little Indian asked no ques- 


LITTLE INDIAN 


55 


tions, for an Indian boy is taught to 
bridle his tongue. 

“Listen, then,” continued the owl. 
“If you would catch the goose, you 
must first catch the goslings, and not 
by two or three, or by traps or snares 
but always the nearest one first, which 
is ever the last, seeing that they follow 
her in line, unbroken and unwavering.” 

Little Indian held his breath. His 
heart leaped with desire to attempt the 
deed. “Tell me, 0 wise Hinakaja, 
when to commence.” 

“Tomorrow night wait in this spot 
for the coming of the red-winged 
goose,” replied the owl, and flew away. 


CHAPTER XTTT 


LITTLE INDIAN BEGINS THE CHASE 

T HE next night Little Indian 
crept softly from his tent. 
Throwing his bow and quiver 
across his back, he set out for the dead 
tree in the forest, where Hinakaja had 
told him to wait for the red-winged 
goose. Little Indian knew the forest 
paths so well that a short half hour 
brought him to the open glade wherein 
stood the dead tree, tall and gaunt 
like a specter. He knelt down and 
bathed his face in the tiny spring 
which slept in the grass near at hand, 
offering up a prayer to the Great Spirit 
to guide him in his undertaking. Over- 
head the dark blue sky seemed to be 
higher than ever, and he felt very much 

56 


LITTLE INDIAN 


57 


alone. Still he was not afraid but 
waited patiently for the moon to rise. 
He gazed upward into the quiet depths 
of the air so long that he fell fast 
asleep. 

From his dreams he was awakened by 
a loud hiss, and starting to his feet he 
saw that the moon shone like day on 
a goose with brilliant crimson wings, 
followed by six snow-like goslings. 
Had he waited to rub his eyes, they 
would have disappeared from sight. In 
an instant he darted after them. On 
and on he ran. The roots of the trees 
seemed to lay hold on his moccasins, 
and the low brambles to twine their 
thorny fingers about his leggins. The 
great trunks seemed almost to move in 
his very path as if to impede his prog- 
ress. But Little Indian had a stout 
heart, and although he stumbled and 
fell, he scrambled up as best he might 


58 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


and pursued the goslings over hill and 
valley, far beyond the forest. 

Skirting its borders, but ever keep- 
ing in sight the red-winged goose and 
her flock, he finally found himself at 
dawn near the lodge of the Great 
Beaver. As he followed swiftly down 
the hillside, slippery with dry grass, he 
fell close to the edge of the river. 
Fatigue and discouragement had al- 
most overcome him, but as he raised his 
head slowly from the ground, lo, there 
on the edge of the bank rested the 
goose and her brood, well nigh as tired 
as he. 

Quickly fitting an arrow to his bow, 
he aimed at the nearest gosling and let 
fly the arrow. Away sailed the goose 
and her brood, leaving the gosling dead 
upon the ground. Little Indian 
grasped the snowy neck with eager 
fingers, and twisting a little leather 


LITTLE INDIAN 


59 


thong around it, bound his trophy to his 
belt. 

Suddenly he heard a voice at his side, 
and turning he saw the Great Beaver. 
“Welcome, Indian I ’Tis many moons 
since last we met.” 

“Oh, Great Beaver,” replied Little 
Indian, “see the trophy which I have 
but this moment secured I The Great 
Spirit has indeed helped me.” 

“Because you have observed the laws 
and customs of your tribe, 0 Indian,” 
answered the Beaver. “Come, rest 
within my lodge until tonight, when 
you may once more pursue the red- 
winged goose and her brood.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE SECOND GOSLING 

Y OU have traveled far,” the Great 
Beaver said to Little Indian as he 
led him into his lodge. 

“I trust the Great Spirit will help 
me tonight to catch yet another gos- 
ling. Then will the famine disappear,” 
replied the little Indian boy. 

“Yes, Maga, the Goose, is evil and 
her brood will be as evil. The river is 
dry on the farther side of my island, 
and the fish have sought deeper waters. 
May you catch another gosling and yet 
another until there be no more.” 

The remainder of the day Little In- 
dian spent in sleep for he was weary 
and footsore. It had been a hard jour- 
60 


LITTLE INDIAN 


61 


ney and for an older Indian would 
have been no easy task. 

Toward sundown the Great Beaver 
awoke the little Indian lad and, giving 
him some nourishing food, directed him 
by a shorter journey through the forest. 

In a short time Little Indian reached 
the dead tree in the clearing, where he 
sat himself down again to await the 
coming of the red- winged goose and her 
brood of snow-white goslings. 

Many clouds were in the sky, and 
dark and rustling grew the forest, full 
of sighs and whispers and moaning 
winds. The little Indian boy’s heart 
shivered and his flesh crept, for the 
spirit voices of the depths were talking 
to one another! The moon was hidden 
by the clouds and in this black darkness 
how was he to see the birds? 

Suddenly the whir of wings drowned 
the gloomy whisperings of the forest. 


62 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


The red-winged goose flew by like a 
flaming torch, followed by her brood of 
snow-white goslings, their plumage 
gleaming even in the darkness like a 
flash of lightning. 

Little Indian forgot his terror and 
springing to his feet, set off in pursuit. 
This time the birds took a new track, 
deep into the heart of the forest. Sorely 
tried indeed was the strength and cour- 
age of the little Indian boy as hours 
went by and the pursuit still held on. 
Sometimes he would all but lose sight 
of the last gosling and a great fear 
would come into his heart lest he fail 
in his attempt. His feet were bruised 
and bleeding and his face and hands 
tom by brambles and sharp branches. 
But his courage never failed him, and 
on he went, ever keeping in sight the 
swiftly flying birds. 

As day dawned and Tate Wiyohi- 


LITTLE INDIAN 


63 


yanpa, the East Wind, drove the shad- 
ows before him, Little Indian came out 
of the forest into a gray and dismal 
swamp, through which ran a stream 
amid tufts of coarse grass. On one of 
these the birds lighted to drink, and 
creeping up softly he managed to kill 
the nearest gosling. As it fell, pierced 
with the arrow from Little Indian’s 
bow, the goose and the remaining brood 
whirled away. So weary was he that 
after picking up the gosling he crept 
back to the forest and fell asleep until 
late in the afternoon. 


CHAPTER XV 


HINAKAJA HELPS LITTLE INDIAN 

T HE shadows were creeping 
through the forest when Little 
Indian awoke from his sleep. 
Two of the goslings were now his, but 
there were yet four more to be taken. 
Still Little Indian did not despair, but 
quickly cooking his evening meal set 
out for the tree in the clearing. He ar- 
rived some time before the late moon- 
rise and sat down to wait. 

High overhead the Milky Way, the 
Pathway of the Ghosts, shone in the 
still heavens. Soon clouds began to 
gather; gusts of wind bent the forest; 
afar the wild yell of the witch-owl 
smote Little Indian’s heart with terror. 
A sob of fright nearly escaped his lips, 

64 


LITTLE INDIAN 


65 


when to his relief his friend Hinakaja, 
the little owl, fluttered close to him and 
whispered: “Courage, Little Indian!” 

Suddenly a dull red light gleamed in 
the north and spread along the clouds. 
The four remaining goslings streamed 
out behind the red-winged goose like a 
white tail to a crimson kite. On, on 
they flew, and Little Indian followed, 
though his head whirled and his heart 
beat as if it would break. At last the 
birds circled past a thick cedar whose 
boughs swept the ground, and the last 
gosling, swerving a little from the line, 
flew headlong into the thickest 
branches and before it could flutter it- 
self free was safely clutched in Little 
Indian’s two hands. 

“Well caught!” cried Hinakaja. 
“Come, I will lead you to a quiet spot 
where you rest for tonight’s labors.” 

Little Indian followed his feathered 


66 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


friend silently to a great tree, where he 
sat down and ate some dried deer meat 
and com cake. After this he made a 
bed of dry leaves and it was not until 
sundown that he awoke, so weary was 
he after his long chase. Indeed he 
might have slept on through the night 
had it not been for his faithful friend, 
the owl. 

“Awake, Little Indian!” cried 
Hinakaja. “For you must journey 
back to the dead tree in the clearing. 
Otherwise you may miss the red- 
winged goose and her goslings.” 

Little Indian sat up and rubbed his 
eyes. “I am ready,” he said simply 
and followed the owl. 

“Three goslings have you caught, O 
Little Indian,” cried the owl, “and 
three more yet remain. Keep up a 
brave heart, for courage and endeavor 
will bring them to your hands.” 



He could shoot his bow like a grown-up man. (Page 40) 






















H 

• '■ 
































































LITTLE INDIAN 


67 


“And will the famine surely disap- 
pear when I slay the last one ? Or must 
I also slay the red- winged goose 1 ?” 

“Patience, Little Indian,” replied 
the owl, “and you will have the answer 
in due time.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE CHASE IS HALTED 

O NCE more Little Indian stood by 
the dead tree and waited for the 
red-winged goose and her gos- 
lings. Not a breath stirred and the 
leaves on the trees hung in motionless 
festoons. The gurgle of the little 
spring in the grass near by was the only 
sound he heard, for it was a strangely 
silent night. Little Indian was more in 
awe of the great silence than the howl 
of the wolf or the cry of the witch owl; 
the stillness seemed to forebode evil. 
But as nothing further disturbed the 
dusky stillness, he waited patiently for 
the coming of the red-winged goose. 

Suddenly the whir of wings broke in 
upon the solitude. Starting to his feet, 

63 


LITTLE INDIAN 


69 


he commenced the chase. Through 
bramble and thicket, across hill and 
valley he pursued the red-winged goose 
and her brood. W eary in limb, with his 
feet bruised and bleeding, he kept 
bravely on, now and again losing sight 
of his quarry, but regaining it as often, 
until at last the birds lighted at the foot 
of a round, high hill. Out on one side 
of the great mound ran a pure bubbling 
spring over whose waters hung an old 
oak tree. At its foot stood an upright 
stone, half shielding an opening in the 
earth. Little Indian stole carefully up 
behind them, sure at last of success. 
They stood quite still, eagerly drinking, 
all unaware of Little Indian’s presence. 

Careless of the owl’s directions and 
anxious for the prey, he determined this 
time to catch two instead of one. 
Stretching out his left hand toward the 
nearest, he grasped with his right at an- 


70 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


other, but, alas! that he had disobeyed 
Hinakaja’s instructions to catch one, 
and only one at a time. So sure of the 
nearest was he that in trying to first 
seize the other he fell full length in the 
soft mud surrounding the little pool of 
water. The red- winged goose and her 
goslings taking fright, flew off and were 
out of sight before Little Indian, his 
face covered with mud, could pick him- 
self up. 

Bitterly disappointed over his fail- 
ure, he sat down on the stone hungry 
and tired and, above all, conscious that 
his failure was his own fault. 

He knew not where to look for aid. 
In the midst of his distress he heard a 
low growl, and, looking up, saw the 
Great Bear who had given him the strip 
of fur for his belt as a sign of hardiness. 

“ Behold, Little Indian, the cost of 
disobedience! Four nights must now 


LITTLE INDIAN 


71 


pass before you can resume the chase. 
This delay is punishment for your dis- 
obedience. On the fifth the red-winged 
goose and her brood will venture out. 
And the bird that is frightened is swift 
of flight thereafter. Still I counsel you 
to resume the chase.” 

Little Indian sorrowfully made his 
way back to the camp, and for four 
nights tossed wearily in his wigwam. 
In vain the moon shone through the 
opening; in vain the night wind whis- 
pered through the treetops; he dared 
not disobey the Great Bear’s instruc- 
tions. He must wait with all the 
patience of his Indian nature until the 
fifth night. At length it arrived, and 
long before the moon rose he leaned 
against the dead tree in the forest clear- 
ing. 

“All will be well,” said Hinakaja, 
the Owl, “for he who is truly sorry and 


72 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


determined to err no more is stronger 
for the failure. See that you are swift 
of foot and stout of heart, for the red- 
winged goose and her brood will fly 
faster than before.” 

“Never fear,” said the little Indian 
boy quietly. * ‘ I have learned my lesson 
and will strive doubly hard to redeem 
myself.” 

Slowly the moon rose and majestic- 
ally ascended the heavens. The stars 
glittered with dazzling beauty and 
Wanagitacanku, the Milky Way, made 
a pathway for the ghosts of departed 
warriors. The forest breezes stirred 
the leaves, and the mystic voices of the 
dusky depths whispered in the dark- 
ness. 

The heart of the little Indian boy 
beat high, as with impatient expecta- 
tion he awaited the coming of the red- 
winged goose. The minutes dragged 


LITTLE INDIAN 


73 


slowly by until it seemed to him that 
the birds were aware of his presence 
and would never pass their accustomed 
place. Presently in the distance a red 
glow spread over a great white cloud, 
and in another moment the beat of 
wings announced the approach of the 
birds. 

Springing to his feet, Little Indian 
commenced the chase as the goose and 
her brood flew swiftly by. Through the 
forest their flight led until they reached 
the prairie, when in a broad curve they 
steered straight away for a rough ridge 
of hills to the westward. Up their 
ragged, uneven sides the little Indian 
boy pursued them, ever keeping in 
sight the white goslings, white as a 
thistledown in the rays of the full 
moon. Up and up he climbed until at 
last the red-winged goose lighted on a 
pine-tree that stood out solitary, like a 


74 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


sentinel of the hills. Near her perched 
the three remaining goslings. Softly 
creeping towards them, Little Indian 
carefully fitted an arrow to his bow, and 
when within range let fly an arrow. 
Down from its perch fell the nearest 
gosling and away sailed the goose and 
her brood. 

Clutching his prey tightly in his 
hand, Little Indian offered up a prayer 
of gratitude to the Great Spirit. 


CHAPTER XYII 


ALL BUT ONE GOSLING 

A GAIN Little Indian awaited the 
coming of the red-winged goose. 
And while he rested quietly, he 
heard the voices of the forest, and the 
Great Spirit seemed to be speaking in 
the evening breeze. “Courage, Little 
Indian! For when the last gosling is 
caught, the famine will disappear from 
the land, and your tribe again be happy 
and well-nourished.” As the words 
died away, he heard the rush of wings, 
and in another moment the red-winged 
goose flew swiftly by, followed by her 
two remaining goslings. 

The trail led presently on the out- 
skirts of the forest through a deep val- 
ley, on either side of which rose steep, 

75 


76 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

wooded slopes. The grass was dry and 
slippery, and it was difficult for him to 
keep his footing. At length, just as the 
valley broadened out to meet the great 
prairie, the red-winged goose settled on 
the bank of a small stream that wound 
its way down from the hillside. Little 
Indian had barely strength enough to 
draw his bow, but his aim was true to 
the mark, and the fifth gosling fell to 
the ground, while the goose and her 
one remaining offspring flew away. 

As he slowly retraced his steps 
through the valley, he came upon Tam- 
doska, the Deer, who had given him the 
rattle as a token for swiftness. 

“How fares it with you, 0 Little In- 
dian?” 

“All goes well,” replied the little In- 
dian lad. “Tonight I must capture the 
last remaining gosling.” 

“Then more than ever you will need 


LITTLE INDIAN 


77 


swiftness of foot,” answered the Deer. 
“When the breath in your chest is 
coming in quick gasps, take the rattle 
which I gave you, and make it speak to 
the wind that it hurt not your throat 
when you are hard-pressed with run- 
ning.” Then the Deer went down the 
valley, leaving Little Indian to continue 
his way toward the forest. 

He had hardly sat down before the 
red-winged goose and her one remain- 
ing gosling appeared. Swift as an ar- 
row they circled the dead tree, and were 
off through the forest like a flash of 
lightning. The little Indian boy was 
quick to start, however, and with flying 
feet took up the chase. 

Tonight it seemed to him that the 
birds were as swift as an arrow. It 
took his utmost strength to keep within 
sight. Never had he run with such 
swiftness but gradually, to his dismay, 


78 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


he saw them vanishing in the distance. 
Remembering the words of Tamdoska, 
he loosed the rattle from his belt and 
shook it as he ran. Renewed vigor 
seemed to come to him. His heaving 
chest grew quiet and his feet seemed 
like wings so swiftly did they speed 
over the ground. Finally the red- 
winged goose lighted on a fallen tree to 
rest her tired wings. 

Once more he was about to fit an ar- 
row to his bow, when he heard a voice 
say, “Lay hold of the gosling with your 
right hand,” and obeying this strange 
command, he softly grasped the gosling 
and held it safely to his bosom. The 
red- winged goose, loath to leave the last 
of her brood, lighted upon his shoulder. 

Swiftly Little Indian returned to his 
camp. Under his arm he held the red- 
winged goose and in his left hand the 
last remaining gosling. 


LITTLE INDIAN 


79 


Slowly the mist rose from the valleys, 
and Tate Wiyohiyanpa, the East Wind, 
stirred the leaves. And to Little In- 
dian’s delight he noticed that for the 
first time in many months the dew lay 
on the grass. Soon a gentle rain com- 
menced to fall, and as the breeze crept 
up the valley, through the forest and 
out to the great prairie, it turned the 
leaves from gray to emerald, and the 
dry grass to silky greenness. And the 
streams awoke and glided again over 
their pebbly beds. The rivers flowed 
from bank to bank, and the parched 
places and dry hills became verdant. 
Back to the lakes and the marshes came 
the wild goose and the heron, and into 
the whispering forest fluttered the blue- 
bird and the robin, and the swift swal- 
low darted over the prairie white with 
blossoms. 

“Ah, the famine has departed!” cried 


80 


LITTLE INDIAN STOKIES 


Little Indian. “Joyous will I find my 
people, and tlie camp will ring with 
laughter when I show the goose of evil 
and her brood of snow-white goslings.” 

He quickened his steps until his feet 
seemed to fly over the earth, so anxious 
was he to tell his people of his deed, 
and how he obeyed the Owl, the Deer, 
the Bear, and the Great Beaver, white 
with snows of many winters. 

Big Chief listened gravely to his 
story of how he had been instructed to 
catch the red-winged goose and her 
brood. His mother, Blue Water, folded 
him to her bosom and her eyes sparkled 
with joy. His old grandmother patted 
him on the cheek for she knew that the 
stories of great deeds which she had 
told him had filled his heart with brav- 
ery. For it is the brave heart that 
gives the body the swiftness of the deer 
and the courage of the bear. 


LITTLE INDIAN 


81 


Little Indian built a large and airy 
cage for the red-winged goose and her 
one remaining gosling, for now that 
she had been caught the spell was re- 
moved and the drought had disap- 
peared. No more would she fly across 
the verdant prairie or through the cool 
forest to wither with her flaming wings 
the grasses and the foliage. 

The warriors that evening listened to 
his account of how for six long, weary 
nights he had pursued the red-winged 
goose through the forest bramble and 
thickets, over hill and valley, his moc- 
casins tom and his feet bleeding, until 
he had captured the last gosling and 
the red-winged goose. 

“He will be a great warrior ere many 
moons,” said Old Gray Wolf, and Little 
Indian felt very proud when he heard 
these words. 


CHAPTER XYIII 


SEEKING A NEW HOME 

B IG CHIEF sat in his tepee smok- 
ing his medicine pipe. For sev- 
eral weeks game had been very 
scarce. The buffaloes had wandered off 
to other feeding grounds, and it was 
necessary to follow the herd, for with- 
out buffalo meat the tribe would suffer 
much from hunger. After he had 
smoked awhile, he carefully placed his 
medicine pipe against the rear of the 
tepee, and waited for the women of the 
camp to spread the news. 

“Little Indian,” said the old squaw, 
“we remain yet another day in camp, 
for I have seen the medicine pipe of 
Big Chief at the rear of his tepee.” 
82 


LITTLE INDIAN 


83 


Then all the women went out for the 
daily supply of wood, for they knew by 
this sign that the camp would not be 
moved until the following day. 

That night the warriors who had 
gone out before sunrise to locate the 
nearest herd of buffaloes returned and 
reported that they had found a suitable 
spot where there was plenty of fresh 
water and green grass. 

The following morning the medicine 
pipes were placed on the side of the 
tepee facing the direction in which they 
were to set out. Presently the place 
was all astir, the wigwams were taken 
down, the blankets and utensils packed 
and everything made ready for the 
journey. When Big Chief and all the 
chiefs had finished smoking, they 
headed the procession, the warriors and 
the women and ponies following in line, 
and after going a short distance, they 


84 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES! 

halted and looked back to see that 
everyone had left the camp. 

Little Indian was mounted on his 
favorite mustang. He carried his war 
shield and club, and over his shoulder 
hung his bow and quiver of arrows. 
Very proudly he rode along, his neck- 
lace of bear claws glistening in the 
morning sun. 

Blue Water and Little Indian’s 
grandmother both rode a horse, on 
either side of which were fastened the 
tepee poles, the lower ends dragging on 
the ground. Lashed across these poles 
were the tepee, blankets, and cooking 
utensils of the camp. 

Just as the procession left the forest, 
Hinakaja, the Owl, called out from the 
deep shadows, “Good luck be with you, 
O Little Indian!” 

It was the first time in many months 
that Big Chief had broken camp, and 


LITTLE INDIAN 


85 


as Little Indian rode along lie leaned 
over his mustang’s head and whispered 
in his ear, “We will soon join in the 
buffalo hunt.” 

Finally the tribe reached the spot 
that had been marked out for the new 
camp, and as soon as the medicine 
pipes were placed on a tripod the war- 
riors sat around and smoked. After 
that the chiefs made ready for the hunt. 
When they had gone about half the dis- 
tance that lay between them and the 
buffalo herd, the chiefs called the war- 
riors together and told them that they 
must all start at once so that everyone 
would have a fair chance. 

Now there was a bad Indian lad 
among them named White Otter, and 
instead of obeying, he sneaked away 
and commenced to crawl up toward the 
buffaloes. “Stop him!” cried Big 
Chief to Little Indian, but before he 


83 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


could overtake him, the buffaloes took 
fright and were off. White Otter’s 
pony was fleet of foot, and, seeing that 
he was pursued by the son of Big Chief, 
the young Indian urged his pony on. 
The tribe remained motionless, watch- 
ing the race with great interest. The 
buffalo herd had disappeared down a 
ravine and only the two Indians on 
their fleeing ponies stood out against 
the line where the sky and prairie met 
in the dim distance. 

“Faster! faster!” cried Little Indian, 
leaning over his pony’s head, and the 
piebald, hearing the command of his 
master’s voice, increased his speed. 
Slowly Little Indian cut down the dis- 
tance between him and White Otter un- 
til finally he overtook him. At that 
moment Wkite Otter’s pony slipped a 
forefoot into a prairie dog’s hole, send- 


LITTLE INDIAN 


87 


ing him and his rider sprawling upon 
the ground. 

In an instant Little Indian was off 
his mustang, and, leaping upon White 
Otter, bound his hands together with 
thongs oi leather and led him back to 
the tribe. There they stripped him of 
his clothes, broke his bow and arrows, 
his knife and his saddle. Then they 
took his pony and sent him off on foot, 
disgraced before the whole tribe. 

“You shall pay for this!” hissed 
"White Otter, turning to Little Indian, 
but the latter only laughed and said, 
“I have no fear for you are a sneak, 
and a sneak is always a coward.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


LITTLE INDIAN’S FIRST BUFFALO 

S OON Big Chief called his warriors 
together and in a short time re- 
sumed the hunt. After going for 
some distance, they came in sight of the 
buffaloes that had stopped to graze, but 
on the approach of the Indians who had 
crept along a ravine close at hand the 
cows and calves crowded together, 
while the bulls trotted up and down, 
pawing the earth and bellowing furi- 
ously. With a wild yell the Indians 
urged their ponies forward, and the 
herd, with lowered heads, thundered 
away in wild retreat. 

Little Indian on his piebald was well 
in front, and his pony being one of the 
swiftest in the tribe and carrying a 
88 


LITTLE INDIAN 


89 


lighter load than the other mustangs, 
slowly but surely forged ahead and was 
soon close to the laggards of the buffalo 
herd. 

An old bull, wild-eyed and frothing 
at the mouth, wheeled about directly in 
Little Indian’s path. Swerving his 
pony to one side, he planted an arrow 
through its heart, and, without stop- 
ping, swiftly pursued the fleeing herd. 
In a short time, he found himself in the 
midst of the bellowing mass, and he 
soon realized that it would take all his 
skill to avoid being crushed by the 
swiftly moving bodies of the frantic 
animals. His pony was sure-footed and 
well-built, but should he trip or step 
into a prairie dog’s hole, Little Indian 
knew that it would mean instant death 
for them both. 

What concerned him most at this 
point was how to get out of the herd. 


90 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


It was impossible to stop, for the mad- 
dened beasts in the rear would only 
trample him to death. The buffaloes 
were crowding closer and closer to- 
gether, and any instant he might be 
crushed and trodden under foot. There 
was but one way: to slowly slacken the 
speed of his mustang with the hope that 
the buffaloes would gradually pass him 

by- 

Turning around, he was terrified to 
see the mass of rocking forms and wav- 
ing horns behind him. Turning again, 
he took a desperate chance, and with a 
well-directed shot laid a bull low just 
behind his mustang. As the buffalo 
fell, the herd divided and Little Indian 
slightly reduced the speed of his pie- 
bald. Twice he repeated this, and slow- 
ly but surely the herd passed by, until, 
with a sigh of relief, he found himself 
out of danger. Only here and there was 


LITTLE INDIAN 


91 


a stray buffalo cow with her calf, or an 
old bull, worn out with the exertions of 
the stampede. 

Little Indian slowly rode back to the 
buffalo which he had slain at the com- 
mencement of the chase. Several of the 
warriors arrived at the same time, and 
with their help Little Indian skinned 
the animal. The buffalo had fallen to 
his knees, so that it was not difficult to 
pull out the arrow. Had the animal 
fallen on the side in which the arrow 
had penetrated the weapon would have 
been broken, which would have been a 
great loss to Little Indian, who, like all 
the braves, was anxious to keep his 
weapons. 

With strips of rawhide they tied up 
the meat, and, fastening it to the back- 
bone, which had been stripped clean, 
they threw it over the pony. On reach- 
ing the camp, the women ran out and 


92 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


bore it away to cook for the evening 
meal. Little Indian being the only one 
to procure food that day, all the Indian 
boys regarded him as a great hunter. 

“Come, let us play buffalo hunt,” he 
cried, and tying a long strip of rawhide 
to a piece of meat, he drew it swiftly 
over the ground, while the other boys 
rushed up and shot arrows into it. 

Amid loud shouts, he pawed the dust 
and bellowed, imitating a buffalo as 
best he could. Then lifting up the 
piece of meat, he swung it around his 
head. By chance, a stray arrow hit 
him. Falling to the ground, he pre- 
tended that he was badly hurt, at the 
same time groaning loudly. 

“Quick, get a medicine man!” One 
of the boys picked up a bunch of weeds 
and squeezed the juice over him, imitat- 
ing a real medicine man curing a wound 
by his wonderful medicine. 


LITTLE INDIAN 


93 


Of course the arrows were small ones, 
such as they used to shoot squirrels and 
birds and were not the dangerous 
weapons of the grown-up men. To have 
Little Indian play with them was a 
great honor. They all looked upon him 
as already a warrior, but, like all well- 
brought-up Indian boys, Little Indian 
bore himself with much dignity and 
was not at all conceited or overbear- 
ing because he had done great deeds. 

“Little Indian,” cried Hinakaja, the 
Owl, that night as the little Indian boy 
lay in his wigwam, “I have followed 
you. In yonder clump of trees I have 
made my home, for I would be near him 
who once saved my life.” 

Little Indian opened his eyes sleep- 
ily, and said: “My heart is glad that 
you are near.” 


CHAPTER XX 


A PROMISE TO LITTLE INDIAN 

L ittle Indian did not know 

how long he had been asleep. 
He dimly remembered hearing 
Hinakaja, the Owl, speak to him in the 
early part of the night. But now the 
strange dream from which he had just 
awakened made his eyes shine with an 
eager light. 

Where was the owner of the voice 
that had spoken to him? He looked 
around the tepee. It was empty; only 
the white light of the moon gleamed on 
his quiver of arrows. Afar off the 
weird cry of a coyote broke the still- 
ness of the night. 

Little Indian arose and looked out 
into the darkness. Should he follow the 


94 


LITTLE INDIAN 


95 


directions which had been given him in 
his dream? The voice had told him to 
go into the forest, where he would find 
a Man of Wood. With a sudden im- 
pulse Little Indian picked up his bow 
and arrows and silently went forth. 

A flutter of wings caught his ear, and 
in a moment his faithful friend, Hina- 
kaja, settled on his shoulder. 

“ ’Tis wise, 0 Little Indian, to obey 
the voice of your dream! Fear not for 
the Forest Folk are your friends,” said 
the owl. 

“Tell me,” said Little Indian, “why 
I should seek the Man of Wood?” 

“Ask me not,” replied the wise bird, 
“but do as the voice bids you. I will 
lead you to him; more I cannot do.” 

Silently Little Indian followed, and 
before long they came to a clearing in 
the woods. A tree which stood almost 
alone in the open space had a curious 


96 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


aspect. Little Indian was unconscious- 
ly attracted to it. To his amazement 
on approaching nearer he saw that the 
trunk was carved in the form of a man. 
Suddenly it spoke, “ 0 Little Indian, 
return to your wigwam, and when you 
awake in the morning you will find a 
pipe by your side. Light it, and the 
smoke will turn into pigeons. From 
the largest pigeon take a white feather. 
Place it in your hair and it will make 
you a great warrior.” 

Little Indian turned and without a 
word hurried back to his tepee, and 
throwing himself down on his blanket 
was soon fast asleep. In the morning 
he found the pipe at his side. Hasten- 
ing to find his old grandmother, he re- 
lated his dream, and asked for tobacco 
to fill his pipe. And lo ! when he lighted 
it the smoke turned into pigeons. 
From one of the birds his grandmother 


LITTLE INDIAN 


97 


plucked a white feather and placing it 
in his hair, whispered, “When you are 
old enough to be a warrior they will call 
you ‘Wearer of the White Feather.’ ” 

Very curious were all the warriors 
when they beheld the white feather in 
the hair of Little Indian. And many 
were the questions which were asked 
him. But to all he gave no reply except 
that he had been told in a dream to 
wear it. The mystery of this added to 
his fame, and soon he was looked upon 
as the coming warrior in the tribe. 

All this, however, made WLite Otter, 
the young Indian brave whom Little In- 
dian had punished on the day of the 
buffalo hunt, very jealous. Whenever 
he had the opportunity he played some 
underhanded trick. 

“Follow me, 0 Little Indian,” said 
Hinakaja one day after Little Indian 
had spent several weeks hunting for the 


98 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


arrows which White Otter had stolen. 

Through the silent forest, where the 
wind whispers to the trees, Little In- 
dian followed his feathered friend until 
they reached a hollow tree. 

“Little Indian, stretch your hand 
through the crevice in the trunk and 
you will find your lost arrows.” 

Little Indian did as he was bid, and 
brought forth the arrows unharmed. 

“I have not forgotten the claws of 
the cruel hawk. He who saves the life 
of one of the Forest Folk endears him- 
self to all,” said Hinakaja. 

“The Great Spirit is indeed good to 
me,” replied Little Indian reverently. 


CHAPTER XXI 


SENT ON A MISSION 

T HE sun was just appearing above 
the eastern rim of the great 
prairie as Little Indian mounted 
his favorite mustang and rode from the 
camp. Over his shoulders hung a 
beautifully tanned robe of black bear 
and leggins of doeskin encased his 
strong young limbs. Around his neck 
shone his highly prized necklace of 
bear claws. 

Little Indian looked very handsome 
and warlike as he rode away. He did 
not notice that his mother, Blue Water, 
was secretly watching him depart, or 
that his old grandmother stood in the 
doorway of her wigwam, her right hand 


100 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

shading her eyes as she gazed after his 
slowly disappearing figure. 

Little Indian thought of nothing but 
that he was being sent to a neighboring 
tribe by Big Chief on a mission of great 
importance. Through the tall prairie 
grass he guided his faithful steed, and 
towards noontime came to a swiftly 
flowing river. It had rained for several 
days and the water was nearly over- 
flowing the high banks. 

After finishing his lunch of dried 
buffalo meat, his pony having had a 
good rest, he again mounted and rode 
up to the water’s edge. As he looked 
at the raging yellow torrent, his heart 
almost failed him. It seemed as if the 
waters as they raced by hissed defiance. 

Resentment filled his heart and he 
laughed aloud, saying, “Do you think, 
0 Mighty River, that you will stay the 
journey of Little Indian, son of Big 


LITTLE INDIAN 


101 


Chief, because of your swiftness? No, 
I will battle with you!” Urging bis 
trembling pony into the stream, be com- 
menced bis perilous trip. 

But after a few minutes battling with 
the current, the plucky little mustang 
was swept swiftly down the stream. 
Little Indian slid off to relieve the 
pony of bis weight. The waters 
foamed and hissed about him, filling bis 
eyes and choking up bis nostrils. From 
a distance came the roar of the cata- 
ract. 

“Help me, 0 Great Spirit!” be cried, 
and as if in answer to bis prayer the 
pony touched bottom on a sandy bar 
that reached into the river and, well- 
nigh exhausted, succeeded in pulling 
himself up on the bank. To attempt to 
journey further that day was out of the 
question, so Little Indian built a fire 
and camped for the night. 


102 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


The following morning he saddled his 
piebald and again started on his jour- 
ney. The faithful little mustang was 
none the worse for its hard struggle in 
the river, and Little Indian, after a 
good night’s sleep, felt no ill effects 
from his perilous swim. He looked 
back at the raging river as he rode 
away, and raising his tomahawk in the 
air, uttered a low war cry; for had not 
the raging river proved as cruel an 
enemy as any hostile Indian whom he 
might meet? 

At that moment he saw a large eagle 
circling above him, and he believed it 
was a good omen. Perhaps he had 
heard his war cry. All that day he rode 
without stopping, and toward evening 
came to the foothills covered with trees 
and heavy undergrowth. As he came 
within bowshot, he drew rein and gazed 
about him. As nothing happened to 



The red-winged goose flew by like a flaming torch, 
followed by her brood of snow-white goslings. 

(Page 62 ) 


. 









4 






LITTLE INDIAN 


103 


arouse his suspicions, he continued to- 
ward the wood. 

Upon reaching the thicket he found 
a game trail leading to the wooded 
slopes. Suddenly he noticed hoofprints 
and quickly dismounted to examine 
them. Then he quietly led his pony up 
the trail, listening for any sound that 
might come from the quiet depths. 
Suddenly he heard a pony whinny, and 
before his piebald could reply he 
grasped him by the nostrils. 

Then, muzzling him with a leather 
thong, he left the trail and tied him to 
a tree. Cautiously creeping up the 
trail, he presently came in sight of a 
pony. It took him but a moment to 
loosen the tether and lead him back to 
his own mustang. Presently he heard 
a familiar call. 

“It must be Hinakaja, the Owl,” 
thought Little Indian. 


104 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

Then a flutter of wings broke the 
stillness and Hinakaja whispered: “Be- 
ware, 0 Little Indian! White Otter 
lurks within this woods.” 

Little Indian answered with a low 
laugh, “Then ’tis his pony I have 
tethered by mine. I will lead it away. 
’Tis a long journey to the camp on 
foot.” 

Mounting his piebald, he led the cap- 
tured pony quietly down the trail and 
out upon the prairie. 

“Make haste,” cried Hinakaja, “lest 
he send a swift arrow after you before 
you are well on your journey.” 


CHAPTER XXn 


LITTLE INDIAN MEETS AN ENEMY 

L ittle Indian followed the 

friendly owl’s advice and rode 
swiftly across the prairie. In a 
short while the low foothills were lost 
in the dusky light and Little Indian 
felt that he was now safe from any 
harm that White Otter might wish to 
do him. The night hush had fallen 
upon the plain. Little Indian looked 
up at the sky studded with stars. 

“They are the campfires of departed 
warriors,” he said to himself. 

The breeze that swept over the 
prairie grass seemed to bear the voices 
of the darkness, strange echoes from 
the Spirit Land. Now and again this 
was broken by the far-off howl of a 

105 


106 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


wolf or the weird cry of a coyote. He 
was alone upon the prairie, and again 
gazing up at the heavens where the 
glittering stars made a trail for de- 
parted warriors to the Spirit Land, he 
offered up a prayer to the Great Mys- 
tery to help him on his journey and to 
give him strength to complete his task. 

As he was now far enough away from 
the foothills to avoid being overtaken 
by the treacherous White Otter, he de- 
cided to camp for the night. A little 
wooded elevation caught his eye and 
thither he turned his pony’s head. He 
found to his delight that a small spring 
lay at the foot of the little wooded 
knoll. Tethering his ponies in the 
sweet, fresh grass, he ate some dried 
buffalo meat, and rolling himself up in 
his blanket went to sleep. 

Suddenly he was awakened by the 
neighing of the captured pony. Little 


LITTLE INDIAN 


107 


Indian jumped to his feet and hastened 
to where it was tethered. He arrived 
just in time to see an Indian vault on 
its back. Before the stranger could 
capture the piebald, Little Indian 
seized him by the mane, mounted him, 
and the stranger seeing that he was dis- 
covered made off into the darkness. 
Little Indian followed at a furious gal- 
lop. He felt it must be White Otter, 
who had undoubtedly followed the trail 
all night and had come upon him just 
in time before the morning broke. 

To be outwitted by this sneak of an 
Indian was too much for Little Indian, 
and he gritted his teeth and urged the 
piebald forward. It was fortunate for 
him that the day was just dawning, 
for otherwise "White Otter might have 
succeeded in escaping in the darkness. 
Slowly the piebald gained, and in a 
short time was nearly up to the enemy. 


108 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


At this point the latter turned and let 
fly an arrow. It just missed Little In- 
dian, who, drawing his bow-string, sent 
an arrow straight to the mark. If the 
fleeing pony had not swerved the shot 
would have proved fatal. As it was, it 
pierced the right arm of White Otter. 
In another moment Little Indian was 
alongside, and after a desperate hand- 
to-hand encounter dragged him from 
his pony. 

White Otter turned his eyes on Little 
Indian with a look of hatred. “Twice 
have you made me captive. Slay me 
or the next time you may find me 
victor.’ ’ 

Little Indian made no reply. Bind- 
ing the thongs yet tighter about his 
captive he led him back to the camp. 

It was now early morning, and An- 
petuwi, the Great Sim, was thrusting 


LITTLE INDIAN 


109 


his fingers into the dark places, making 
everything light. 

After White Otter was securely 
bound to a tree, Little Indian cooked 
his morning meal, after which he sat 
long by the smouldering ashes of his 
campfire pondering what to do with his 
captive. At length he decided. Going 
over to where White Otter stood, sullen 
and silent, he said: 

“You have long been my enemy, al- 
though you belong to my tribe. Yet I 
will spare you. I will give you meat 
and com to last you till you return to 
the camp of my father.” Then bring- 
ing up his pony, Little Indian forced 
White Otter to mount. “No weapon 
will I give you, traitor,” he said in a 
low voice; “but enough to eat for the 
journey. Go! and remember Little In- 
dian is too proud to slay a captive.” 


110 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


With a look of hatred White Otter 
rode away across the prairie until he 
was lost to sight. 

“He can do me no harm now,” mut- 
tered Little Indian, “for I have his 
weapons. He must return to the tribe 
like a squaw!” 

Then mounting his piebald, Little In- 
dian continued his journey. Late in 
the afternoon he smelt smoke upon the 
breeze. This told him he must be near 
the camp of the tribe to whom his 
father, Big Chief, had sent him with the 
message. Changing his course in the 
direction from which the wind blew, he 
rode on for several miles and at last saw 
in the distance the tepees and fires 
of a large camp. At the same time sev- 
eral warriors rode out to greet him. He 
recognized them at once as the friends 
of his father whom he had seen some 
years before, and as soon as he was 


LITTLE INDIAN 


111 


ushered into the circle of chiefs who 
were sitting about the fire, he made 
known his errand and delivered his 
father’s message. 

After he had spoken, there was a long 
silence. Then Three Feathers, chief of 
the tribe, arose. 

“What you say is good, O Little In- 
dian, and my heart goes out to you. 
We will visit your father and join him 
in the hunt for buffalo for we have 
suffered much from hunger.” 

Then Little Indian stood up and 
said: “My heart is glad that you will 
come to our camp and join our tribe in 
hunting the buffalo, for the plain near 
which we are camped is covered with 
them. W e will kill many and be glad ! ’ ’ 

Then Three Feathers again arose, 
and said: 

“We have no meat with us, 0 Little 
Indian, and we are sorely famished. 


112 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Did you see no game on your journey?” 

“None, O my friend,” replied Little 
Indian, “but keep a brave heart. The 
Great Spirit may send us food before 
tomorrow’s journey.” 


CHAPTER XXm 


LITTLE INDIAN AND THE SMALL DOG 

L ITTLE Indian’s heart was sad 
to think that Three Feathers and 
his tribe were so famished, and 
when he lay down to sleep he made up 
his mind that the next morning he 
would find some game. Otherwise how 
would they be able to endure a long 
journey? For even an Indian cannot 
fight hunger without food, although he 
may battle with an enemy without a 
weapon. 

Toward morning he was awakened by 
a low whine. A small dog stood close 
at his side, licking his hand. Little In- 
dian was about to send it away when 
the dog spoke in a low voice: 

113 


114 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


“0 Little Indian, your friend, Sun- 
ka, the Dog, has sent me to you. And 
he bids you to follow me into the woods 
near this camp.” 

Little Indian arose and, picking up 
his bow and arrow, silently followed the 
Small Dog. The camp was very quiet. 
The Indians were asleep; some nearly 
perishing with hunger, others uncon- 
scious, sleeping their last sleep before 
taking the Spirit Trail of departed 
warriors. 

On reaching the wood, the Small Dog 
turned to Little Indian and said: 

“Put some red paint on my face and 
paws so that I may look like a fox.” 

Little Indian took vermilion which 
he had with him for war paint and 
smeared it on the Small Dog so that he 
appeared very much like a fox. 

“It is hard to tell whether you are a 
dog or a fox,” said Little Indian, “for 


LITTLE INDIAN 


115 


had I not at first seen you as a dog I 
would certainly call you a fox.” 

But the Small Dog only said: “Stay 
here, with your bow-string drawn, 
ready to let fly an arrow.” 

Nor did Little Indian have long to 
wait. A number of grouse came by, and 
he shot them all. And strange to re- 
late, as soon as his arrow touched one 
it bounded off and hit another, and 
then another, until it was impossible to 
count the birds that lay upon the 
ground. 

Then the Small Dog that looked so 
like a fox came up. In his mouth he 
carried a large grouse. Laying it down 
at the feet of Little Indian, he said: 

“Carry this back to the camp and tell 
your friends to come here and bring 
home the birds which you have shot. 
But keep the bird which I give you for 
your own meal.” 


116 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Little Indian lifted up the big grouse 
and carried it back to the camp. And 
when he had told the Indians that he 
had shot many birds and for them to 
go and bring them to the camp there 
was much rejoicing. Very soon the 
grouse were roasting over the fires and 
the famished Indians were no longer 
despondent. They looked upon Little 
Indian as having great power. “Med- 
icine Man!” they whispered among 
themselves. Little Indian sat apart in 
front of his tepee and cooked the 
grouse which the Small Dog had given 
him, saying nothing, for as yet he knew 
not what the Small Dog had in store 
for him to do. 

Scarcely had he finished eating when 
he heard a low whine close at hand. 
There stood the Small Dog who had 
helped him kill the grouse. 


LITTLE INDIAN 


117 


“Come with me, 0 Little Indian,” he 
whispered. 

When they had again entered the 
woods the Small Dog stopped before a 
large tree in which there was a hole 
about half way up the trunk. 

“Here comes Tuhmaja, the Honey 
Bee,” said Small Dog. “Say nothing, 
for I would speak to him first.” 

“Good morning!” cried the Small 

Dog. 

Tuhmaja, the Honey Bee, paused in 
his flight. 

“What would you have?” he asked 
in a loud buzz-z. 

“Some of your honey,” replied the 
Small Dog. 

Tuhmaja said nothing, but buzzed 
away. He was about to enter the hole 
in the tree when the Small Dog again 
addressed him: 


118 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

“My good friend Little Indian 
would have honey to feed the starving 
Indians who are camped close by.” 

Tuhmaja winged his way over to 
where Little Indian stood. Alighting 
on his shoulder, he asked: “Are they 
good friends of yours?” 

“They are friends of my father, Big 
Chief,” replied Little Indian simply. 

Tuhmaja called to a number of bees 
that came flying toward the great hol- 
low tree. “Brothers, Little Indian 
would have a part of our honey to feed 
his hungry friends.” 

Several more bees approached at that 
moment. Others followed until nearly 
the whole swarm was present. 

The Small Dog sat down close to the 
feet of Little Indian. 

“Brothers,” repeated Tuhmaja, the 
Honey Bee, “Little Indian would have 
honey to feed his starving friends. He 


LITTLE INDIAN 


119 


is a good Indian and kills only that 
which is necessary for food. He offers 
up a prayer to the spirit of the Deer 
which he has slain. Also to the spirit 
of the Buffalo, and of all animals which 
he slays for food. Shall we not give 
him honey from our bountiful store ?” 

“Yes, surely,” replied all the bees 
with a great hum. 

Then Tuhmaja showed Little Indian 
how to take out the honey from the hol- 
low in the tree. “Take it with you, 0 
Little Indian,” cried Tuhmaja, “and 
when you have shown it to your red- 
skinned brothers, tell them to come 
hither that I may lead them to other 
places where there are hidden stores of 
honey.” 

The heart of Little Indian was glad, 
and with eager steps he hastened to the 
camp. Three Feathers called the chiefs 
together and told them what Little In- 


120 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


dian had done. And many of the tribe 
set out, being led by the friendly bees, 
and returned with much honey, so that 
there was a plentiful supply on hand in 
a short time. 

Little Indian’s fame spread through 
the camp; they called him “Little Med- 
icine Man. ” But he said nothing; only 
sat before his tepee and waited for the 
Small Dog to tell him what next to do. 

In the sequel to this story, entitled 
“WHITE FEATHER,” the further ad- 
ventures of Little Indian will be re- 
lated. 



00054fibA0?2 


cut "3*^ 4**1* §' 'I'S^fSK? §?€£?! miifu ^ c « ti? 

PlwWfr* wS: sarsi^ ' s : c ? a:^^K52H2ls38 rt»r f : j: F fii 1 

‘ ' 1 - tlk Si m ' * K- h !* i II* 5 ?8t 5 f it '• tt 1 35 ' .* 5? f ?: ; Ei u 1 \ !}f 5 ' f H Sk 

Htwiihf 

f .ft ([<«;«' * • > 4 l*£ 5 *Mj_ 5 r 3 , 5 .i c rfc 1 1 ‘j*. 

i " 1 'is * * n* w - Tf I’nti*/* {.■If?;? « fiM*t I f * *; , : , . : l„ , / *#«• v«'*< >««# •. r «< ; 1 I" }, ."lit,,- 




Bif 


. f 


kt w#i 














